Letting Go
by pixel
Summary: Before Zechs leaves for Antarctica, he tries to explain himself to Treize and say goodbye. Yaoi Lime


**Letting Go**  
This is a work of amateur fiction and does not intend to infringe on the rights of Sunrise, Sotsu Agency, Asahi TV, and Bandai Visuals. No profit is being made. 

* * *

"... and do not forget that you have an appointment for breakfast with Marquis Weridge tomorrow at eight thirty." Lady Une, uniform, hair and general appearance still immaculate even after a hectic day of arranging meetings, shouting at underlings and thwarting a badly planned assassination attempt, shot a quick glance at her notepad. "Presumed topic of conversation are the troop movements in the Caucasian region." 

Nodding slightly, Treize accelerated his steps a little, rather irrationally hoping that the woman would give up and just hand him the list instead of reading it out to him. It wasn't even as if he were listening to it, but she did not seem to notice. Or maybe she did not mind. She certainly did not care that he was technically on the way to his private quarters and that therefore the working hours had officially ended for this day. 

They crossed one of the halls in the building, their steps clearly audible on the marble floor. Some part of Treize's mind registered several officers saluting, and prompted his face to put up an appreciating expression. He could practically feel Une glare at some of the men as she tagged along behind him, listing possible locations for mobile suit testing. Making agreeing noises at some of the things she said, Treize started wondering why the way to his private quarters always seemed twice as long when Une was accompanying him. 

It wasn't that he did not appreciate Une's zeal and devotion to duty; she was more than competent, and OZ wouldn't run half as smoothly without her. Treize just could not deny that after a long day she was straining his nerves, even though he had to admire her stamina. 

"You'll have to check the report on the latest Gundam attack that goes to Duke Dermail tomorrow," Une continued. "I have proofread it already, but your consent is needed." 

"Mhmm," Treize agreed, starting to count his steps. Ten more until he would reach the bottom of the stairs. Nine. Eight. Seven. 

"And Lieutenant Noin is sending two of her cadets tomorrow, I have scheduled them for the morning. Their personal files have been sent to your office, and copies to your room." Une did sound slightly reproachful here, had he been supposed to do something about those files? He remembered Lucrezia recommending those young pilots to him, yes, but he was quite certain that he had not seen any documents about them yet. Well, considering the stacks of paper on his desk, that maybe was not surprising. He would deal with it in the morning. 

The red carpet on the stairs swallowed the sound of their footsteps almost entirely, and Treize only noticed that Une had stopped for a moment when she suddenly appeared at his side again, holding several new folders in her hands. Opening the first one, she started to glance over a few pages quickly. 

Treize resisted the urge to loosen the itching cravat a little. Usually he did not mind the uniform, but right now he wanted to get out of the starched clothes and into something nice and soft. Or maybe a bath, that was an appealing idea too. Soaking in a tub of hot water, no thinking to do... he suppressed a sigh. 

Passing some more saluting soldiers, they finally reached the hallway that led to the quarters of the higher-ranking officers. Four guards were stationed there tonight instead of the usual two; most likely Une's reaction to that unfortunate assassination attempt in the morning. At least she was not insisting on guarding him personally; the last time she had done that, Treize had needed an entire day to recuperate from the stress of spending the night in the same room as her. Something about the woman made him feel absolutely uneasy. 

"... while at Toronto the infrastructure would be better by far, with more facilities to measure the suits." Une was apparently speaking about those testing sites again. 

"Lady, give me a report on them tomorrow," he told her, trying not to look entirely disinterested. 

She nodded stiffly. "As you wish, your Excellency." They reached Treize's quarters finally, and stopped just in front of it. 

Reaching for the handle of the door, Treize gave Une a friendly smile. "I will see you in the morning, Lady. Have a pleasant night." 

"Sir." Une snapped to attention, files tucked under one arm. 

Smiling once more and reminding himself not to look hurried, Treize stepped into his room, closed the door behind himself, leaned against it and breathed a sigh of relief. Then he quickly changed the security code to the lock to make sure no unwanted guests would appear, and that Une could not dump any documents into his room during the night. She had done that a few times, and after repeatedly finding folders that had mysteriously appeared in his bedroom, he had learned his lesson. 

His fingers went to the cravat, loosening the knot before untying it entirely. Far better. The gloves were peeled off and deposited on the narrow chest of drawers right next to the door, their usual place. The cravat followed; Treize knew he would be searching for it in the morning if he left it there, but right now he was not feeling up to putting it into the drawer where it belonged. 

For a moment he closed his eyes, relishing the complete silence that surrounded him. No beeping computers, no people informing him of something or other. Perfect, just perfect. 

"Sir?" 

Treize flinched as he suddenly heard that other voice, and almost dove for cover in the absurd hope that he could hide from whoever wanted something of him right now. 

"Sir?" The voice sounded a little concerned this time, and somewhat familiar too. Treize cautiously peeked into his bedroom, then relaxed when he identified the intruder. Tall, long platinum hair, half of the handsome face covered by a mask. 

"Good evening," Treize finally said, trying to figure out just what to make of this situation. That Zechs was in his room this late was not what puzzled him - it would give Une a heart attack, but it hadn't puzzled Treize during the last few years. It certainly wasn't going to start now. 

What kept him from walking over to his lover and giving him a welcome hug was an extreme confusion of signals. Zechs in his room was a basically good thing, while the uniform and especially the mask were not fitting in. Private rooms had been declared mask-free zones, and usually Zechs did remember that much. The younger man looked definitely too formal for Treize to be quite at ease yet. He'd have to figure out first whether he was dealing with his subordinate or with his lover here. 

"Sir?" Zechs tried for the third time, and Treize barely suppressed a sigh. Whatever the younger man wanted, it sounded official. 

"What is it... Zechs?" he asked after a moment's hesitation. Better to settle for the safe name for now and get over with this as quickly as possible. Walking over to the delicate cherrywood secretary, Treize draped his cape across the accompanying chair, then turned to look at Zechs. Once again he cursed the mask for entirely preventing him from reading the other man's face. It would have made things so much easier. 

"The Gundam that self-detonated in Siberia..." The blond man broke off, seemingly searching for the right words. "My orders were to dispose of the remaining parts." 

Nodding slightly, Treize began to wonder what this was all about. He had not given those orders, but most likely Une had done so; it only made sense to destroy those remnants since the engineers could not gain any more insights from them. Absent-mindedly he started to curl and uncurl his right hand to relieve his hurting fingers. 

Zechs went on, and Treize could have sworn that the other looked insecure just for a moment, not just indifferent as usual. "Sir, I told my mechanics to try reconstructing the Gundam." 

No wonder that Zechs had kept the mask on. 

Treize concentrated on not showing his surprise too much. Just how many problems could this cause? Not too many as long as the Foundation did not find out. No reason to get angry. 

"Have they succeeded?" he asked calmly, knowing the answer already. Zechs would not be standing here like waiting for his own execution if the attempt had failed. 

A nod confirmed this. "They are not finished yet, but they are positive that the plans of the Tallgeese will give them all the necessary information." 

Sitting down on the bed, Treize went from moving his fingers to massaging them. "I have been doing 37 hand-written letters of apology to offended nobles in Moscow today," he said, almost to himself. It might have been a mistake to send Lady Une there without considering that her temper occasionally got a little out of control. "As long as you can guarantee me that I will not have to do anything like that again, you can build as many Gundams as you want." 

"Sir?" 

"Milliard... Zechs. The Foundation will not like it at all. But they do not know. Not yet." Treize paused for a moment. Damage control was necessary now. "Has Lady Une given you the orders to destroy the suit?" 

"She did, yes." 

Sighing softly, Treize got up again and walked over to the comm unit. A connection to Une was established soon, and he was relieved to see that she was still in uniform and, from the looks of it, in the midst of putting the fear of God into some guards. At least it looked like that to Treize on the monitor. The two men appeared scared to death. 

"Your Excellency?" Une asked, waiting for him to explain what he wanted. 

A bath, a glass of Medoc and a certain platinum blond man, his mind helpfully supplied. Treize shoved those thoughts back. Une probably could arrange this all, but still he preferred her not to give it a try. Zechs might have shot her in the attempt. 

"Lady, I would like this to remain a private conversation." 

"Yes, your Excellency." Une waved her hand, and the two men scrambled out of sight hastily. "Do you want me to come to your quarters to discuss this?" 

Glancing over to Zechs, who still stood in the same spot, Treize shook his head. "No, but thank you. I do not wish to disturb you for long. Lady, I understand that you have given Lieutenant Zechs the orders to destroy the remains of Gundam 01?" 

Une nodded. "Yes Sir." 

Treize smiled a little. "Delete all traces of this order from the network," he said in his friendliest voice. Making her think that she had made a mistake was not what he wanted at all right now. 

"Sir." His assistant saluted crisply, making him wonder how she could sound content whenever he gave an order, no matter if it contradicted something she had done before. 

"And please forget about the order itself. Direct all questions about it to me. I will deal with them momentarily." 

"As you wish, your Excellency." 

"Thank you. I shall see you tomorrow." Switching off the comm, Treize closed his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out whether there was a better way to deal with this or not. Erasing the order would take care of the problem for now, but difficulties would probably come later. 

Ah well. It would last for the moment, and if the Foundation discovered the rebuilt Gundam, he would have time to find a more permanent solution. By tomorrow noon Une would most likely have puzzled out just what his order had been about, and if he were lucky, she'd have possible future procedures ready as well. 

The sound of someone clearing his throat made Treize look up again. 

"I apologize, Sir." 

He made a dismissive gesture. "It is nothing, Milliard," Treize replied, putting particular emphasis on the name. Zechs gave him what probably amounted to a puzzled look somewhere beneath. 

Leaving his seat at the desk, Treize crossed the room until he stood in front of the younger man, then reached up to take off the mask. 

It always surprised him how heavy it was, but then again it would have to be so it would not fall off easily. How Zechs could stand wearing it was entirely beyond him; the sunglasses the younger man had used to wear had been almost as efficient in hiding his identity as the mask was now. Treize strongly suspected that Zechs did not like the... the thing either, but that he wore it only out of a twisted need for hitting himself. 

The mask was carefully deposited on a nearby shelf, clashing wildly with the smooth, polished wood and the well-worn books there. Cherrywood and metal did not go well together, the auburn sheen of the wood too warm for the cold silver. For the first time Treize wondered just what alloy the mask was made of. 

Zechs was indeed looking somewhat confused still; apparently he had not expected the problem to be solved this easily. Although solved might be a little too optimistic an expression. Delayed until further notice, Treize decided. Until he got to talk to his uncle, or even better his niece. That girl had an almost eerie way to manipulate and annoy people into doing what she wanted. One of those two siding with him on the matter, and Zechs would not have to worry about building Gundams ever again. Family could be so practical sometimes. 

"Stop worrying, Milliard," Treize told him quietly. There is no reason at all to do so." He finally moved to greet his lover more properly, with Zechs giving into the kiss eagerly. Missed you, those soft lips told him, and Treize hurried to answer that he was here now, with no intention of leaving. 

Being able to touch, to hold someone close was always a relief. During a day there were more than enough people around, but there always was an air of distance. It was all about business, after all, about running an organization smoothly, and it did not leave much time for more personal forms of interaction. 

The evenings normally made up for this, especially when neither he nor Zechs had to be somewhere in the morning. Unfortunately Treize dimly remembered being told by Une about some breakfast appointment. Ah well. It left them quite a lot of time still, unless Zechs had scheduled anything for the night. 

Zechs was the first to withdraw, azure eyes still troubled as he met Treize's gaze. "I am causing you problems," he said quietly. "I seem to do that with everybody." 

"No." Treize shook his head empathically. "Romafeller is becoming a problem. Tsubarov," he frowned slightly at the name of the one man he could consider a personal enemy, "is a problem. But you are both my lover and the best soldier I have at my disposal. Problem truly is not a word I would use to describe you." 

This earned him a wary glance. Zechs looked as if he wanted to believe this, but was not entirely certain whether he should or not. Sighing softly, Treize tried to think of a way to assure his lover, but with Zechs' level of self-esteem that was never too easy. And he had been believing that this might turn into a pleasant and comfortable evening... 

"Milliard, please stop thinking that you have done something wrong." Talking Zechs out of his brooding attacks was becoming somewhat easier, now that Treize had discovered the underlying pattern. "Rebuilding the Gundam is honorable, and I would never think anything bad of you because of it." 

"I am supposed to fight them and not give them my own spare parts." 

"That is true," Treize admitted. "But that is not important. What counts is that you give them an opportunity to fight in a fair battle." 

Treize really did not want to argue chivalrous issues right now, even though there were times when he could devote his attention to the topic for hours. It was just that right now his mind was demanding a break and threatened with headaches if it did not get it. Luckily Zechs seemed to be content with his explanation, since he stepped closer and initiated another, albeit short, kiss which Treize rather enthusiastically returned. 

"Thank you," the younger man whispered, resting his head against Treize's shoulder and holding onto him tightly. 

Slightly confused Treize stroked his lover's back through the thick mane of platinum hair. This had really been bothering Zechs, but why? In the past there had been several times when Zechs had strayed away from orders, but usually he had not appeared so guilt-ridden because of it. The command to destroy the Gundam had not even come from Treize, so there was nothing that could affect the two of them personally. And it would hardly be because he had disobeyed an order from Lady Une. Treize was only too well aware of the tension between his personal assistant and his lover. Impossible that Zechs should feel bad about not following her orders for once. 

"It's alright, Milliard," he eventually said, not quite certain about what he was reassuring Zechs. Something was wrong, and Treize simply couldn't figure what it was. Maybe the stress? Since Operation Daybreak had been carried out successfully, they all had been under a lot of strain to keep things working; perhaps it was getting too much for his lover right now? 

Zechs looked at him for an endless moment, then shook his head slightly. "It won't be. But there is nothing you can do about it." 

"We will have to see about that." Treize wanted to say more, but was effectively silenced by Zechs' lips covering his own. 

He gave into the kiss, letting Zechs have control for some moments to give himself time to at least attempt to think of a reason for his lover to behave like this. Besides, after everything he had done today, it felt nice to be passive for once. Arms tightened around him, gathered him close to his lover's warm body. And for the first time today Treize felt as if he indeed had some remnants of a live on his own, apart from OZ. 

After the war has taken place, Milliard. Once I have seen the world through it, we will be free to live our lives in peace without having to fight for every minute spent together. 

It was something to look forward to, a private goal that was as important as putting the fear and loathing of war into the minds of mankind. Treize did not want much, not for himself. Being kissed and embraced, just like now. A small goal compared to what the world could look forward to. 

Zechs' hands were beginning to wander, massaged Treize shoulders lightly before undoing the buttons of his shirt. He leaned into the touch, enjoying the feeling of nimble fingers against his skin, even though they made him shiver a little. Out of some reason Zechs' hands were almost always cold, and not even the gloves changed that. Bad circulation maybe; Treize had suggested more than once that Zechs should see a doctor about it, but the younger man stubbornly refused to do it. 

"I love you," Zechs murmured against his lips. "I don't want to lose you." 

"You won't." I can't promise it, but I will try, Treize added silently. I will not disappoint you. Never. "My heart will always be with you, Milliard." 

There was no reply to that, at least not in words. But he was held tightly again, and embraced the younger man in return, both of them unwilling to let loose. It was a moment he'd always treasure, Treize thought as he rested his head against Zechs' shoulder, smelling his lover's unique scent, mingled with shampoo and a faint hint of Mobile Suit. Whatever the future held in store for them, the feeling of rightness that he had whenever he held Zechs and was held in return would not be forgotten. 

After endless minutes of just standing there peacefully, Zechs began to trail butterfly kisses across his neck, starting almost at the shoulder and finding his way to delicately nibble at Treize's earlobe, making him lean closer and tilt his head more to give Zechs easier access. For a moment the thought of unread files crossed Treize's mind, but when his lover's hands started to wander across his chest, the OZ general firmly shoved those slightly guilty feelings to the back of his mind. Instead he let himself be washed away by the feeling of slim cool fingers teasing his nipples, and Zechs' mouth on his own. 

"Are you off duty already?" Zechs asked, withdrawing long enough to voice his question before nuzzling Treize's neck. 

"We have the whole night, and a bit of the morning..." The last words were almost gasped as Zechs found a sensitive spot. 

"Good..." the younger man purred, slowly steering them over to the bed and making their clothes disappear along the way. Treize couldn't care less what happened to his shirt and pants; all his attention was focused on Zechs. The way he looked, sounded, felt when Treize was kissing him _here_ and touching him _there_, knowing just too well how to draw the reactions he was looking for. 

They loved each other slowly, savoring each moment for the times when they would have to be apart for days or even weeks, making precious memories to ease the separation a little. Promises of love and sweet nothings were whispered as they held each other tightly, bodies and souls united. 

  
Morning found them snuggled together beneath the blankets, embracing each other comfortably. They had moved closer in their sleep in search of the calming warmth of each other, the reassuring closeness that they both craved but wouldn't admit easily that they did. Zechs' head was tucked securely beneath Treize's chin, one arm clasping the older man's waist loosely while he in turn was being held around his shoulders and chest. 

Treize woke slowly, taking time to gradually become aware of his surroundings, first of his lover's familiar form next to him, then the soft sheets that were covering them both. Almost unconsciously he took a deep breath, then deemed the air slightly too cool to be entirely comfortable and tugged the blanket up a little higher as he nestled closer to the wonderful source of warmth that was Zechs. 

A few stray platinum strands were tickling his nose so he brought up a hand slowly, carefully, to smooth them out of the way and tuck them securely behind Zechs' ears where they should be. From outside he could hear the sound of rain drumming softly on the leaves of the trees and bushes, a soothing pattern that almost lured him back to sleep. Maybe they would be able to find the time to take the horses out, Treize thought drowsily as he closed his eyes again. The world would be so quiet and clean after the rain, smelling of earth and water and freshness, perfect surroundings to forget about all worries for at least a little while. 

Zechs wasn't stirring yet, and Treize knew that his lover would continue sleeping for a while still if he wasn't disturbed. He himself was waking earlier every week, almost as if his subconscious knew that every moment of his time was precious. Idly he wondered if this was the same reaction that had earned Caesar and Napoleon Bonaparte their reputations of needing so little sleep. He didn't treasure it too much though; while it was useful, he missed the feeling of being perfectly rested for once. Sleeping with Zechs, sharing a pillow with his lover, was the closest he got to perfect relaxation and rest, and the opportunities to do so were far too rare. 

Casting a quick look at the antique grandfather clock next to one of the closets, its pendulum swinging slowly and steadily, Treize saw that it was not even six yet. Plenty of time left to rest still... maybe he could even wait until Zechs woke up too before he had to leave. It always hurt deep inside to sneak out of the room and leave his lover alone on the bed, to leave him without sharing a last kiss, a gentle embrace. But Treize never had the heart to wake the younger man. 

He allowed his mind to drift, hovering between sleep and awareness in the state where reality and dreams were unnoticeably intermingling. The pouring rain outside was creating a pleasant background noise that made everything else fade away, until all that he was really aware of was Zechs' body in his embrace, and the cocooning softness that were the bed sheets. 

  
There was no way to tell how much time had passed when he felt Zechs tense a little, shift his position, telltale signs that the younger man was about to wake. Treize waited patiently, keeping his eyes closed still to concentrate on his lover completely, to feel every tiny movement. 

The grip around Treize's waist tightened as Zechs tiredly stretched his muscles a little before rolling closer to him and burying his face against Treize's neck. Sleepy noises came from the younger man, an incomprehensible murmur that sounded so unwilling to wake and face whatever the day would bring. 

Zechs relaxed again, and for a moment Treize thought that he had gone back to sleep. But then his lover shifted once more, raising his head and searching Treize's lips for a long and lingering good morning kiss. Only then did Treize open his eyes to find Zechs looking at him, blinking a little sleepily. Another kiss before they both lay back on the pillow again, foreheads almost touching. 

"Good morning, beloved," Zechs murmured, his voice husky from sleep. 

Treize smiled a little. "Good morning to you too. Sleep well?" 

"I always do when I am with you." His lover barely suppressed a yawn, then nestled a little closer, entangling his legs with Treize's. "I wish I could wake like this every day." 

"The same as I..." And surely they would be able to do it one day. Once the war was over, they could both withdraw from public life and just be together as lovers, without having to worry about anything else. Once the war was over. He thought about that quite often by now. 

Cool fingers started to slowly trace his spine. "I love you," Zechs said in a serious tone. 

"And I love you, Milliard," Treize replied, tilting his head a little to brush his lips across Zechs' forehead. 

An insistent hand found its way to the nape of his neck, directing his mouth downwards until they were kissing again, a luxuriously slow kiss that gradually deepened. 

Treize was quite breathless when they finally broke apart. Zechs' arms were still around him, stroking his side before straying towards more interesting areas. Maybe he should call Marquis Weridge and tell him that unfortunately their breakfast would have to be postponed a little due to a meeting with his second... 

That rather pleasant thought was quite abruptly interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at the door to Treize's rooms. 

Drawing up the blanket a little more and preventing Zechs from moving away, Treize hoped that whoever that was had picked the wrong door and would give up if there was no answer. 

"Your Excellency? Your meeting with the Marquis is in twenty minutes." A short pause; Treize could practically see Une listening intently, a look of pure concentration on her face. "Your Excellency?" 

With a deep sigh Treize turned towards the door. "Thank you for your consideration, Lady Une," he responded loudly enough to be sure that she had heard him. There was no way that he was going to face her now. Partly because he didn't want to risk her seeing Zechs - no need to aggravate the tension between his aide and his lover - but also because he always felt somewhat vulnerable facing her in just a robe. 

He wanted to go back to kissing and cuddling, but once he looked at Zechs' face he knew that all chances to spend the morning in bed rather than on duty had evaporated with Une's knock. His lover was not really scowling, but there were the beginnings of a frown. 

"I should be going," the younger man said, moving to sit up on the bed. "I am keeping you from your work." 

Treize sighed again, torn between reaching for Zechs and reaching for the comm unit to cancel the meeting. Much as he loathed to admit it, the second option was not really possible, though so very tempting... Right now Treize just couldn't afford annoying his allies and supporters in the Romafeller Foundation. And Weridge was influential there. 

In the end he settled on moving into a sitting position as well, and reached for Zechs' shoulder to make his lover face him. 

"I cannot possibly express how sorry I am, Milliard." This wasn't the first time something like that happened, but it always stung to have to leave as if nothing mattered. 

"You have to go." Zechs managed a very faint smile. "Don't worry, I understand." 

"Milliard..." Treize wanted to tell him that there was nothing he'd rather do than stay with him, that this would be over soon, but Zechs' lips on his own prevented him from doing that. 

"I know, Treize." Soft kisses on his cheek, like butterfly wings. "You should get ready." 

Nodding a little, Treize drew away and stood up, heading for the bathroom after another glance at Zechs. 

  
They hadn't talked at all since Treize had returned to the bedroom after going through the almost automatic motions of making himself presentable. It was a comfortable silence, filled with quiet caresses and loving looks. Zechs, wearing his shirt and pants as a protection against the slightly chilly breeze of the air condition, was searching for the cravat while Treize slipped into his boots and uniform coat. 

Zechs finally found what he was looking for and returned to Treize's side, raising his hands to tie the cravat around his neck. 

"I will be leaving here today," he said quietly as he tied the knot with practiced ease. 

Treize turned his gaze from his cuffs to Zechs, his chin brushing against his lover's fingers. "May I ask why?" 

The younger man nodded very slightly. "I have to move the Gundam from Victoria, or Noin will be in trouble for not reporting it." 

That Noin had not mentioned any of this to Une in the reports on unusual activities she was supposed to give regularly ever since the Gundam attack on her base did not really surprise Treize. He did not know her overly well, but she was a close friend of Zechs 

"Do not worry about that, I will make sure she won't encounter problems. Where will you go?" 

His lover hesitated for a moment. "I don't know yet. Somewhere without too many interferences. I will decide once I am at the Lake Victoria base." 

"And will you tell me then?" Treize asked softly, studying the younger man's face and not daring to take a guess at the answer. This was an important issue to Zechs, but was it also important enough to hide it even from him? 

He had his response when Zechs didn't say anything but kissed him instead. And while his mind could come up with more than one perfectly logical reason for Zechs not to tell him, he still did not like it overly much. 

The comm unit went off, and Treize heard it automatically accept the incoming call. There weren't too many people with that kind of authority, and right now there was only one who would call him. 

"Your Excellency, the Marquis has just arrived. He is awaiting you in the main receiving room." 

"Thank you, Lady." Treize fought the urge to rub the bridge of his nose in frustration. There was so much he had to speak about with Zechs still, but there was no more time to do so. "I will be with him in a minute. Kindly tell him so." 

"Yes." The connection closed again, and Treize sighed. 

"I must go." 

Zechs nodded, then stepped closer and caught him in a tight embrace that Treize returned after a moment of surprise. His lover wasn't normally so openly affectionate. 

"I love you... and I need to ask a favor of you." 

"Anything, Milliard." And he meant it. There really was nothing he would not give Zechs right now. 

"Watch over Relena for me while I am gone please." 

Treize was surprised for the second time in a minute. From what he had seen so far, the girl was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. And had some very good guardian angels. It still puzzled him a little that Zechs had never told him about his sister, but he understood that there were safety issues involved. Still, if he had known just who the girl was, he might have made some different decisions. He still was glad that Zechs hadn't appeared to notice too many of the details of Minister Darlian's assassination. 

"Of course. I promise I will help to keep her safe." After that little scene in Moscow, he couldn't help being intrigued by her. Maybe she could enter the stage of history as well... 

"Thank you." The arms around him tightened for a moment, but just as he wanted to rest his head against Zechs' shoulder, his lover let go and stepped back. "You have to go." 

"I suppose so..." Treize picked up his cape and fixed it in place. "Don't disappear for too long, my friend. I need you at my side." 

They shared a last kiss, then Treize turned to leave and face his duties, feeling more reluctant than ever before to part with Zechs. 

It would just be a matter of one or two weeks, he told himself. Then Zechs would surely have accomplished whatever he was planning to do with the Gundam, and would return. 

  
The End 


End file.
